Thoughts on a Life Not-Lived
by Fuyu no Sora
Summary: Amoretta muses about the meaning of her existence, and wonders if she will ever find that which will make her whole. Pre-Game fic.


Amoretta Virgine gave a little sigh as she looked out one of the windows. The day was warm and sunny; a perfect day weather-wise, so far as most people were concerned, and one that students and teachers alike took advantage of whenever a small break in their respective tasks came about. As for her, she preferred to remain inside the cool Tower that she called home, for being outside was almost painful to the young woman.

It wasn't, however, due to the temperature. She liked the warmth of the sun as much as the next person, and she could admire the beauty of a clear, blue sky just like anyone else. She was not delicate in constitution to need to keep away from the cheerful weather, and there was nothing inherent in her that would cause pain simply by being outside.

Well, almost.

What caused her pain, in a time in which merriment and high spirits surrounded her, was that she could feel her own lack much more thoroughly on such days as this one. The utter and sheer _love_ of everything that flowed from the people surrounding her called even more attention to what she herself did not have, and it caused the hollowness inside of her to flare up that much more deeply, as if highlighting the contrast between herself and others. As if reminding her, cruelly so, of what she was.

 _A thing that doesn't truly belong_ , her thoughts seemed to whisper.

She was a homunculus, an artificial creation brought forth by the magic of Alchemy, and built around the spirit of an angel. This was, if nothing else, a terrible irony for Amoretta, because as it was, she shouldn't be hollow. God had created everything that existed, and had graced it with His love. There was nothing that was not consecrated by it, merely because it existed. Plants, animals, humans; the tiniest leaf, the smallest worm, the greatest of eagles, and the fiercest of lions, all of them loved thoroughly, simply by existing. Simply for being themselves.

Amoretta lacked this blessing, this _love_ that sustained any and all creatures. She was created not by God, but by man, and as a result she was not a natural occurrence. Thus there was a deep disconnect between her and God that caused the horrible, aching emptiness inside of her that was so devastating she did not think she could put it into words. It was not something that could be described, but had instead to be felt to be truly understood.

This, perhaps, might have been mitigated had she had a purpose. Unfortunately, she did not; Doctor Chartreuse Grande had crafted her as his ultimate experiment, the pinnacle of years of research and hard labor, thorough theory-crafting, testing, and countless failures. From what she understood, much work had gone into the mere _framework_ of how to bring about a being such as she, and the alchemist had been beyond happy when she'd first opened her eyes to the world, as it was a testament to both his success and to how years of single-minded determination had paid off.

But that had been it.

Amoretta's entire existence was deemed to be a great achievement by her creator, but he'd desired nothing from her. She had not possessed the holy wisdom he'd sought after, but he was over his disappointment of that soon enough, willing to continue his pursuit of the secrets of Heaven in a most animated manner. Her lack of knowledge was merely a setback; he'd learned much from constructing her alone and it was worth it to have done so much work, spent so much energy for that purpose in his eyes. So he had smiled at her and told her it was all right for her to not have the answers he had been hoping to obtain from her, and turned back to his research immediately afterwards.

Chartreuse Grande did not love her, but she could hardly resent him for that, as he seemed to love nothing but the knowledge he pursued steadfastly. At the very least, however, she would have liked to have a purpose given to her by him, that she might fill _some_ of the emptiness within with that. Yet even in this she was not to find anything to be had, for he had clearly said that he asked nothing of her. He was content merely with her existence as it was, for his experiment had succeeded and he continued on in the path he had chosen decades ago, having become an even better researcher and scholar from his arduous task. What came after her creation, given that she had had no answers to give him, was an inconsequentiality in his eyes, except when it came to the maintenance of her external shell. From that he could still learn; he could see what destabilized her functions, what he could modify and adjust, and other such things.

From the homunculus, he still expected much. But from her as _Amoretta_ , he wanted nothing.

What right had she to exist under such circumstances? If she had no purpose, what was the point of her existence? Why was she here? How could she justify her presence at this time, or at any other? God knew why He did things, but if she was a thing not of nature, could her existence have been planned by the Almighty? Was there something she had to do, a yet-undiscovered mission for her and this was why she was here now? She was what she was, and while she wished not to be different (because, among other things, it was pointless to wish for things that could never be and she did not _dislike_ herself), it would have been nice to have some answers. Something tangible that she might be able to hold onto rather than meaningless wishful thinking that could not sustain her at all, something that she would be able to feel with the entirety of her being.

Instead, all she felt was a deep coldness in her heart, at the very center of her being that was like a dull, grey space that consumed her and was numbing in its effects. She sometimes wondered, if she were to tap on her head or over her heart, would her body echo that due to hollowness?

She sighed again, pressing her hand to the window's glass, noticing that her hand did not leave a cloudy impression on the pane. This was because her body temperature was naturally lower than that of humans, and so her hand did not warm the place in which her palm was pressed to it. If anything, due to the sun's rays, the glass itself was warmer than her skin.

 _More differences,_ she thought wryly as she turned from the window and began walking back toward the alchemy lab.

After all, these thoughts were terribly morose, and there was nothing that she could do to change any of it. All that was left was for her to continue on and wait.

Perhaps one day she would find that which would fulfill her and place color in what was now plain grey.


End file.
